#Rougarou

[zarlev]

Boo

[maokaw]

Laurent

My favorite owl boi from South of Midnight.

He deserves love, what a poor guy.

[ducotte-real]

We as a society should talk more about the rougarou. Catholic guilt werewolves.... you feast instead of fast and thus your hunger becomes your fault. *You’ve* done this to your appetite, let it bloat with unclean food, let your eucharistic go from the Son’s body and blood to your brother’s. Your stomach is full but you’ll never be fulfilled again.

There is no word for ‘man’ in rougarou— not like in werewolf. The latter implies that its a transformation into a beast. The former says that you’ve been a dog from the start. Inner skin becoming outer skin. I think I’m dehydrated

[citruswriter]

A Sign From God?

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Religious themes, noncon, fem reader, fem terms, Reader is Christian/Catholic, oral (f! receiving), dirty talk (???), church sex, desecration of religious site (???), overstimulation, size kink (???), kidnapping (???).

Monstertober/Yantober Prompts: Local Folklore/Fate

Pairings: Male Rougarou Monster x Fem Reader

You were a devoted thing. Always going to church, always studying your Bible, always paying tithes. As a child you always when to church camp and as an adult you became baptized. The older you were however, the more the church seemed to call you in more and more, demanding to give more of yourself to God Almighty.

You found yourself wondering if you should become a nun. And that's how you ended up in your local church in the dead of night, on your knees and praying to God.

"Please God. I feel torn. I want love. I want a husband. But I also feel called to the nunnery. Please Father, I don't know what to do. Please. Give me a sign." You prayed, bowed over the stairs that led up to the podium. It wasn't long before you heard a growl.

Your breath caught in your throat at the noise as the animalistic growl ripped through the cathedral. Your body stiffened and you felt your blood run cold as the predatory noise made you very much aware that you were not alone in the church.

"You wish a sign from God?" A voice came, the sound of it low and gravelly, his Cajun accent thick. "I'll be your sign." You felt a figure loom over your body as you trembled in fear. You felt a large clawed hand grasp your skull with ease and force it down to the ground as he licked his jaws.

"Such a pretty little thing." His voice came, wolf jaws sniffing over your body, tongue sneaking under your tongue to lap at the skin of your thighs. You shudder and tremble in fear, but despite what you wanted, your body responded differently. You felt heat pool in your core, tears welling in your eyes as you body called to the sin despite your heart trying so hard to cast your cares on God.

"I can smell your fear, little girl. You afraid of the big bad wolf, cher?" He taunts and he presses his snout up your skirt and To your inner thigh, hot breath fanning over you and adding to the heat of your core before he lets out a raspy laugh. "Maybe it's less fear than it is... arousal. Maybe you're afraid I'll devour you whole... but maybe that's also what you want."

You let out a whine of protest, tears starting to spill from your eyes as he lapped closer to your cunt before his spare hand tore your panties away, claws shredding the fabric and flipping your modest skirt up to expose your cunt to the cold air of the cathedral.

You yelped and tried to close your legs but his hand kept you firmly spread out for him, a low predatory growl leaving his maw and making you freeze in fear once more again before his long canine long lapped at your slick cunt, making you whine out. Whether it was in protest or pleasure, you weren't completely sure.

He continues to lap at your cunt, licking at your clit and lipping it inside you, trying to drink more of your sweet nectar as you whine and keen on the stairs. He seems almost feral, not being able to get enough of your sweet cunt as he eats you out like a man starved. You gasp as you start to feel a knot form in your gut, your orgasm cresting within you. The beast seems to notice you too, giving an almost puppy like whine as he presses his tongue onto you harder, working harder to get you to orgasm on his tongue.

You try hard not to, to stave off your orgasm, to not give this sinful beast what he wants but its all in vain as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You cry out as you cum, you nerves kind of feeling as if you bit into a star as the beast laps greedily at the sweet honey you released.

"So fucking good." He rumbled and you give a small strangled noise as he continues to lap again. "Again." He growls out, lapping at your cunt once more, trying to get you to cum once more on his tongue once more, loving the way your pussy juices tasted.

You moan out with overstimulation, tears streaming down your face as he works your sensitive cunt with with lycan tongue. You sob and moan as he laps at you greedily, working you to another orgasm.

It doesn't take long for that familiar knot to return. You let out a strangled noise as he presses harder to drive you over the edge once more, desperate to taste your sweet cum once more.

You cry out, sobbing as you're forced to cum once more. Your vision blurs and your ears are ringing from the intensity of your orgasm. Your whole body trembles as you're kept in the position, the man lapping happily at your cunt like he was a puppy who just got his favorite treat.

Eventually you feel his tongue retreat and you give sigh of relief as your poor cunt is given a moment of rest. But large clawed hands splay themselves over your hips and sides and you feel him shift. Your blood runs cold.

You feel his cock nudge at your entrance but before you can protest he thrusts forward, spearing you on his cock and stuffing you full as he shoves his large throbbing cock into your sopping wet cunt. You cry out, giving a strangled moan as he stuffs you full and stretches you out. It feels so good and you feel so guilty. Like you've sinned.

He growls and snarls as he starts to piston in and out of you, wasting no time with setting a brutal pace in you. It took you a bit to shove through the pleasure and hear his muttering. "You asked for a sign from God. I am your sign from God. You are mine now, little gir. My mate. My everything. We are bound together. Bound by fate. My beautiful fated mate. God has chosen you to be my wife."

You can't believe what your hearing. You would have retorted, told him he was wrong, crazy even. But the way his cock was fucking you on the floor of the cathedral kept you from speaking anything legible. Only slutty moans and keening whines left your throat as he drills into that wonderful spongy spot deep within your velvet walls.

You start to panic when you feel his hips stuttering but shows no sign of pulling out. You weakly squirm but he keeps you firmly in place, one of his hands dropping to rub you already abused pearl once more. You cry out once more, loud noises being ripped from your throat as he tries to drive you over the edge once more, this time with him.

You scream as you cum once more, shuddering as the man lets out a vicious snarl and shoves his cock as deep as he can, pumping a large load of cum into you. You both pant heavily as the two of you attempt to climb down of your orgasms. Eventually he pulls out, cum spilling from your pussy and onto the cathedral's floor.

You collapse onto the floor, whining softly as everything hurts. Moments later, the large beast scoops you up but your vision is too blurry to really make out much. But you do hear him. He's returned to his rambling. His deranged muttering about how you're his fated mate. Fate brought you together. God led him to you to take you.

Finally he's no longer alone.

Ik, ik. It's late. Shoot me.

This one was actually kind of special to me bc I'm Cajun and I don't see a lot of representation when it comes to my culture so it was nice to share a piece of my culture with all of you guys!

Taglist: @ozzgin

[ludinusdaleth]

"Thanks for the ride! See you around!"

[gouachevalier]

[evkami]

Rougarou Showcase

Rougarou is a folklore creature from the swamps of Louisiana, US....this one is a bit more cute than the legend

[schweizercomics]

Companions of Christmas day 7: Guinefort, the Cajun Rougarou When Santa Claus visits the bayous of Louisiana, the dense canopy of trees that blanket the rivers along which its people live preclude him from employing his reindeer-pulled sleigh. He has instead taken to using a pirogue, a type of flat-bottomed boat, and in lieu of reindeer employs the services of eight charitable alligators.

The people along the bayou’s rivers light bonfires on the bank each Christmas Eve to help Santa find his way.

But those settlements, and the cabins and houses between them, are spread out enough that the oppressive darkness of the waterland often persists for long obstacled stretches.

Luckily for Santa and the children of Louisiana, he is assisted along these stretches by a Rougarou, a type of werewolf, whose real name is not known, but whom the Acadian locals calls “Guinefort” after St. Guinefort, a popular saint in France who happens to be a dog.

The Cajuns were always wary of Guinefort because it is, after all, prudent to be wary of wolves, but knowing that his birthday was Christmas (because, as many know, only those born on Christmas can be cursed to become werewolves), people would leave him treats and presents on that day, so Guinefort came to love Christmas, because it was the day that he felt loved himself.

Now, the furry Cajun makes the most of his agile nature and keen night vision to help Santa navigate the sometimes treacherous waterways, standing on the backs of Santa’s alligators and serving as a pilot, avoiding submerged logs and Cypress roots while sipping hot chicory and casting a warm glow with his red lantern.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Happy December, friends! Each year around this time I post up drawings of Christmas and other winter holiday figures, along with narratives to explain the practices with which folklorists and holiday buffs might be familiar. When stories exist, I use them; when they don't, I do what I can to piece together what folklore surrounds them to fill in the gaps (or, in some instances, defer to the theories of my friend and fellow narrative reconcilianist Benito Cereno). I hope you enjoy them!

[hazbin-reimagined]

Werewolf Alastor, but like in a Vampire way

Im giving Alastor’s killing style the vampire treatment, because drinking blood is just so much sexier than cannibalism. His demon form will be a rougarou (werewolf) with vampiric feeding tendencies. I think if he indulged in cannibalism in hell, he would have picked it up from his girl bestie Rosie, the same way you pick up eating vegan food with your vegan friends. He still prefers drinking blood but he would definitely swing by the market in CannibalTown whenever he visits his favorite gal. My logic is that if sinners like Angel Dust didn’t get into sex work until going to hell, it would make sense that other sinners would discover new sins to indulge in post-mortem, too. Alastor won’t have any other vampire traits, but he will have a 3-stage werewolf transformation (that is still in the works). I am also adding more X’s on his design to mark the seams that hold his clothes together when he transforms, as well as doubling as marking the places he was shot in death.

I read in a fan fiction someone’s headcanon that Alastor only killed other killers in life, specifically white supremacists of his time, and I fuck with that heavily. Had Alastor simply lived under different circumstances, he would have never gone to hell, unless you can be damned for a bad attitude. I want to explore that more. How many sinners are simply victims of circumstance, and who truly belongs there? Alastor may have been a blood-drinking serial killer in life, but he was only killing other killers. Is the act of killing alone, no matter the reason, enough to land you in Hell, or is it about the intent, or the way the victims were killed? Does everyone who pulls the trigger land in hell? Cops definitely, I have a whole demon class in mind for cops in hell, but what about drafted soldiers? Are they damned as well? Or does there need to be malicious intent involved? So many questions.

Anyway, kisses you for reading this far, have a mid-transformation Alastor as a treat :3

[dailycharacteroption]

Mantella (Druid Archetype)

(art by Hyarion-art on DeviantArt)

As much as we’re all very familiar with physical trauma being the “default” way to damage something, toxins are perhaps just as old when it comes to ways to harm or even kill other living foes. Life is, after all, the product of a complicated series of delicate curated chemical reactions, so it only makes sense to destroy life by disrupting a creature’s ability to continue those chemical reactions.

Toxins are subdivided into poisons, which the creature delivers passively when another creature interacts with them (touching, swallowing, injuring), and venoms, which the creature delivers actively as an attack (bites, stings).

It only makes sense then, with so many toxins being weaponized in nature, that there would be druids using their primal magic to draw upon said poisons, and we’ve had three of those: the toxicologist, which specializes in poisonous spells, making use of real poisons, and shapeshifting into giant vermin (Though only higher level versions get the ability to poison in those forms); second is the urushiol, which sweats poison from their skin like certain frogs and works to refine the poison to become more and more deadly; and third is today’s subject, the mantella!

The lore of the matella archetype suggests that it was invented by grippli to improve or replicate the poisons possessed by some of their kind, but the archetype doesn’t actually interact directly with the toxic skin racial trait, meaning that in theory anyone can take it.

What sets the mantella apart is that they seem in some ways to honor the creatures that specifically use venom or poison, which is true of the former two true, but while the toxicologist uses toxins in all forms they take (plus transforming only into vermin), and the urushiol generates it’s own poison, the mantella focuses on wild shaping to recreate venomous creatures as well as delivering their own venoms through their own natural attacks, as we’ll see.

Or maybe you just want a poisonous druid that doesn’t give up nature bond or a bunch of the druid’s passive abilities.

Either way, we’ll soon see what the mantella is all about.

The mantella’s primary difference is how they handle wild shape. Namely, while they cannot take elemental forms, they always gain the ability to replicate the poison of their plant or animal forms. This means that their animals forms prior to early mid-levels can be venomous, allowing them to get poisoning much sooner than other druids.

Their other ability allows them to take a dose of poison they’ve been inflicted with and store it in their bodies, secreting it again through the natural weapons they either normally possess or gain later either through wild shape or some spell. This consequently also makes then and any animal companion they have immune to poison as well, making for a nasty surprise when a foe’s own venom (or that of their allies or other monstrous neighbors) is suddenly used against them.

This archetype is much simpler than other poison-themed archetypes for the druid class, but that’s part of it’s charm, offering accelerated poisoning in the early levels when poison is at it’s most effective and a fun reversal effect later on. This can be especially fun for a druid that moonlights as a magical assassin, or one that just enjoys focusing on debuffing foes.

Since toxins are such a common adaptation in the natural world, it’s likely many druids, and especially mantellas, find the idea of poison being “dishonorable” or “evil” to be patently absurd. Even the most painful and unpleasant venoms exist purely to ensure the survival of the creature that wields it, and poisonous animals and plants ensure the survival of their species by either killing the one that eats them (or at least giving them a very strong Pavlovian aversion to eating another one).

Taking an ambitious bite of a plant, falling on an ant nest, reaching into a viper’s den… Baju the Rougarou has an intimate history with poison, but despite this, it hasn’t deterred him. Quite the opposite, as he has developed a great interest in the natural toxins of the world, which carried over when he became a druid. The fact he is now immune has only made him bolder, much to the chagrin of his packmates.

Rumors of the presence of a fachen, a misshapen parody of a humanoid with only one leg, arm, and eye, can only mean the influence of the deity known as the Hateful Sculptor. The local druid circle  contemplates evacuating the area, knowing that the beast and other creations of the monstrous divinity are terribly strong despite their malformed nature. However, Ghilis has no intention of running, for as monstrous as the fachen is, it can still bow to venom’s agonizing kiss.

Claiming that they must be warding their morality against his divine senses, a paladin working with a colony of settlers has declared the grippli of the nearby rainforest dishonorable and evil for their use of poison. The longer he goes on, the more support he gains and the more unhinged he becomes. The fact that he hasn’t been able to feel the divine power flow through him is of no consequence, as surely it is just a divine test of character, one that he aims to pass by wiping out the “wicked frogs”

[kypopkypop]

I love that feeling when you push your self to do something and it turns out really good.

[eatorfuck]

In the Creole and Cajun legends, the creature is said to prowl the swamps around Acadiana and Greater New Orleans, and the sugar cane fields and woodlands of the regions. The rougarou most often is described as a creature with a human body and the head of a wolf or dog, similar to the werewolf legend.

[kairunatic]

Damn Rougarou shaved himself and probably took some steroids cause literally he's body size is so different 😭

They better have an explanation for why he became half furry in wolf form

[ducotte-real]

YOU KNOW WHAT??? Laios’ monstersona was a chimera bc it drew from his fascination with monsters. If his values were more about his hunger than his admiration for life and biology he woulda been a Rougarou. That’s ALL I’m saying. This guy is hungry yeah but he eats to overcome, his eating has purpose. Food is strength and life in the dungeon. He admires what that food means for the ecosystem as much as he wants to participate

[hoarart]

seeking or hiding?

[esmeraldaka]

South of Midnight | Story Trailer

Can't wait!!!